


discoveries

by jade304



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade304/pseuds/jade304
Summary: The MT jumped up, grabbing his face in its hot metallic hands, pulling his face close to its own. But it wasn't an it, it was a boy, his own age, with blonde hair and blue eyes and desperately begging:"Help me. Help me. Help me. He-e-e-l-p m-"





	discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> not proofread, because the heat wave is making my face melt and I don't want to be on my hot laptop longer than necessary

"Your highness!"

Regis dove out of the way not a moment too soon as an axe whooshed past where his head had been an instant before. A loud _crack_ near his ear, and he watched the MT crumple to the ground, electricity dancing across its body. Weskham tucked away his pistol, rushing over to help the prince back up.

"Are you all right, Regis?" He asked, wrapping an arm around Regis's shoulders and hefting him to his feet. The prince was terribly sore from his fall to the ground, but otherwise well. He nodded.

Their other companions were still taking out the last few straggling axemen; he heard the clang of Clarus's broadsword on metal, Cor's eager shouting. With a crunch, he heard Cid drop to earth, knocking the last of them off their feet and leaving them vulnerable to the others attacks. He and Weskham were a distance away, still surrounded by felled magitek troopers. Regis dusted himself off and looked around.

"Gods...what was this?"

"A planned ambush, likely," Weskham said darkly. "They've been close on our tails since we left Cleigne."

The sounds of the fighting stopped. He heard the others approaching them, running to ensure the prince was all right. Regis walked between the scattered magitek with curiosity; he'd never seen so many of them up close before. They were all one hundred percent mechanical, a new prototype his father had warned him about before they'd set off. However, they usually disintegrated into a mess of sparks as soon as they were felled. Leaving behind their metal shells was...new.

The others thought the same, apparently; Clarus hurried to his side, looking at them all with the same confused expression.

"Why would they still be here?" he asked warily. "Are they actually done for?"

Cor unceremoniously kicked one in the chest. Nothing but a hollow _thwunk_ , and the magitek remained still. "They're dead," he said.

Regis crouched down in front of the one Weskham had shot. The sparks had stopped, and the metal was cold to the touch; MTs tend to run at higher temperatures, they'd noticed through their battles. His own hands were covered in scars from burns as a result of touching the hot metal. The dented armor was cool to the touch, even though it had been animated mere minutes before.

He looked at its face; covered by the same odd humanoid mask that the rest of them had. These were almost certainly newer prototypes; the older magitek wore armor indistinguishable from human Niflheim soldiers, plain helmets with no human features.

Reaching out carefully to touch it, perhaps to examine the wiring underneath, he noticed the faceplate had come loose. He wiggled with it; something rattled underneath.

"What's up, Reggie?" Cid called. Regis and Weskham looked over his shoulders as he tugged harder on the mask.

With a bit more effort, it popped off.

_The MT jumped up, grabbing his face in its hot metallic hands, pulling his face close to its own. But it wasn't an it, it was a boy, his own age, with blonde hair and blue eyes and desperately begging:_

_"Help me. Help me. Help me. He-e-e-l-p m-"_

"Regis!"

Clarus's arms around him knocked him back into reality; he was lying on his back in the dirt, staring up into four worried faces. He felt something lying next to him; he didn't want to look. He closed his eyes tightly, and Clarus sighed.

"He's fine," he said, though he sounded hesitant. "We need to contact His Majesty immediately about these visions, though."

A vision. Regis breathed. They came with greater frequency, lately. He cautiously sat up, opening his eyes and looking at the magitek trooper.

It was a hollow shell. It's faceplate lay on the ground where Regis had dropped it, but the cavity behind it was empty. Loose metal connectors were the source of the rattling noise.

His heart still pounding, the young mans face fresh in his mind, he shakily rose to his feet. The sea of magitek were still laying all around them.

 

. . .

 

It was frankly the worst timing for the mission - in the wake of the Queen's death, Regis was torn between caring for both his newborn son and the country that desperately needed him, with little time for either one of these things. However, the news of a new magitek production facility was too much to ignore; they had all but fallen dormant since the end of the Great War, and a resurgence in activity was a major concern. A small group, headed by Cor, was sent into Niflheim to investigate. It was the riskiest mission Lucis had started, possibly the most since Mors had pulled back the wall. There was not much word on conditions in Niflheim, most notably on the silence from the magitek project, and sending a group directly into its heart was an unimaginable risk. It was why Regis placed Cor at the lead; he trusted few else to lead the Lucian men and women in and out of Niflheim alive.

The months wait was torturous, but the return came with a particular frenzy of activity Regis did not anticipate at all.

"Marshall Leonis requests you in the research wing," a cold-faced Clarus announced in Regis's office. "Immediately."

His tone pushed Regis into motion; Clarus did not say a word to him as they took the elevator down to the lower floors of the Citadel, to the short walk to the underground facility where the Crownsguard and Lucian researchers carefully kept in contact all that was found regarding Niflheim or the war. It was a group established during King Mors's time, and Regis always felt uncomfortable coming down here. It felt too much like how he imagined Niflheim's own laboratories to feel, and having it rest so close to his own home in the Citadel was unnerving.

As they entered, a lone researcher greeted them.

"Your Majesty," they said, bowing deeply before the king. Regis noted the lack of any other souls around. "My apologies for the interruption, but the Marshall demanded you at once."

"What for?"

The researcher's face took on the same odd expression Clarus had. They guided the king and shield silently to a secured room, unlocking it with their fingerprint.

"The Marshall is adamant that only a few know of this," they said. Said Marshal all but leapt to his feet as they entered; the sound of mechanical whirrs and the beeping of a heart monitor were the only noise in the room.

"Your Majesty," Cor said, "I –"

Regis raised a hand, silencing him. The beeping sound hammered into his head; it was a too familiar sound, too close, it made his palms sweat, but he approached the lone table in the room on his own.

Some part of him must have anticipated this, he thought, as he looked down on what Cor had brought back. It wasn't too long ago he was in the same spot, in a different room, with a different weight in his chest.

The small table held nothing but a lone infant, staring up at Regis with unblinking blue eyes. It didn't cry, as his own child had - it regarded him with a strangely focused look in its eyes. He could already see wisps of blonde hair, make out familiar facial features.

_He-e-e-l-p m-e_

"The magitek," Regis said. Clarus and Cor exchanged a look, but nodded. Cor in particular, now that Regis could see him, looked very green in the face.

"The magitek," Cor echoed. The infant remained quiet as ever, still staring up at them all.

 


End file.
